


needy

by bloodrunsred



Series: just a little bit broken [4]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Character Study, Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Flashbacks, Fucked Up, Gen, Gross, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lying Rick Sanchez, M/M, Manipulative Relationship, POV Rick, Past Rape/Non-con, Pedophilia, Physical Abuse, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Sorry Not Sorry, Statutory Rape, Underage Kissing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, no i am sorry this is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-01 00:56:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17234402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodrunsred/pseuds/bloodrunsred
Summary: He feels much better afterwards but Morty is out cold, new bruises mingling with the old until all Rick can see is a tapestry ofhurt. He's never been one for art but he'll always like how Morty looks.He doesn't linger in Morty's room and doesn't look back at the mess he's made when he leaves.





	1. human

**Author's Note:**

  * For [02448](https://archiveofourown.org/users/02448/gifts).



> OKOKOK holy shit this was emotionally draining. Rick Sanchez is a complex character, and I hope I did him justice. im planning on posting a second chapter bc i may as well go all out, though admittedly im going through some tough writers block atm.
> 
> In other news, I'm thinking of making this chronological - I won't delete the dead Morty one, but remove it from this series and continue it like that? 
> 
> I'm still not sure if I like the present tense or not ahhhhhhh
> 
> btw: 02448 is a user who has been so incredibly kind and helpful throughout this series, and gave me the inspiration for this fic! i hope it's everything you wanted darl xx

Rick's favourite place in the house is Morty's bedroom.

He's lying in Morty's bed now, listening to Morty's snuffling as he tries to control himself in a way he hasn't actively tried in years. He's a little high and a lot more drunk, and the only thing that could make him happier is if Morty was awake to ask him in a tired, groggy voice,  _"R-rick, what are you - it's so late, c'mon, let's just get some sleep, please?"_

He remembers how angry and confused Morty was when he climbed into his bed for the first time, how unsure he was and he's so glad Morty knows better now, knows exactly what to say to make Rick happy. He knows Morty doesn't like it, being woken up and forced to bring a dangerous drunk into his bed (but he isn't dangerous, not to Morty, Morty always wants what Rick does anyway), but he's so good at it.

And he comes into Morty's bed anyway.

Their relationship is different now, after he let Morty remember what had happened; and really, how could he say no when Morty begged so beautifully with glistening eyes and a raspy voice after crying all night, when he promised he'd do anything if Rick would,  _"Please, please, I can't forget, please I - don't make me, Rick-"_

He could have, easily, but he's a sucker for a willing participant and Morty will do anything for him, he knows it.

(He almost feels a twinge in his chest, but a lazy sip from his flask squashes it before he has to think about it.)

He thinks of waking up Morty, just to see if he'll cry again when Rick kisses him, but the twinge returns and he doesn't. He takes another sip. He wants to be passed out, cuddling up to Morty in a haze of hormones and stolen booze, but his mind is rebelling for once. It's boring, he realises, being all alone with nothing but thoughts. Ususally there's someone or something to keep him busy, or provide him with entertainment, but something feels different.

He's never felt so-

He doesn't know what he feels, he's never felt the sense of not-belonging he feels here, in his grandchild's bedroom, which is ridiculous. He's Rick Sanchez, he belongs everwhere; he goes where he wants and forces the universe to make room for him. He's always been like that and he doesn't know why  _now_ he feels out of place and intruding when Morty looks five years younger in his sleep.

It doesn't matter anyway, because he can just take and take and take and worry about his feelings  ~~never~~ when he's sober.

He's carding his fingers through Morty's hair and doesn't know what emotion pops up when Morty's forehead creases and he whimpers like he's been struck but he doesn't stop either way. He tries not to think too hard because he can already feel disgust bubbling at the back of his throat at how unsure he feels, at how unnatural that is. He knows everything and he doesn't need to prove that to himself because he's proven it to  _galaxies_ , universes that worship him as a demented  _god._

Every God needs a sacrifice and he's let every conceivable world know that Morty Smith belongs to him.

Morty draws his attention by shifting further into his chest, and he's almost blown away by the tingly warmth he feels beneath his ribcage. He's felt it maybe a handful of times before, and he's never been bothered to name it.

Morty's so  _pretty_ , he thinks, not quite beautiful with his round cheeks and too-large eyes, but delicate. Cute. Maybe as he grows he'll be more angular, growing into his eyes and gangly body, but right now Rick loves seeing him soft and small in a way he he never thought was endearing before. His thumb wipes at Morty's cheek, under his eye because he thinks he sees a mark. Nothing comes away and he's glad he decided to let him rest.

(If only because Morty's been getting slower on adventures and he thinks there might come a day where he slows down for good.)

He can't bring himself to close his eyes, but he's staring at Morty's face and he has to, if only to take a moment for him to build up the walls he's accidentally let down in this place with no one here to see it. His flask is empty but he needs another drink, and all he can think about is how Morty is his favourite drug, how Morty will be good enough until he replaces his drink.

He doesn't want to move from the bubble he's created for himself, so he gives in and  _takes_.

Morty doesn't wake instantly; to Rick's critical eye, it looks like he's trying to stay asleep, nestled in comforting dreams and whole memories instead of where he'll be when he lets Rick in.

Rick still feels too sober and he kisses him again, not sure if he should take the plunge and go further when his daughter is right down the hall (and he remembers how Morty screamed and begged and wailed the last time, he doesn't need that right now). Morty's awake but he doesn't kiss back, looking tired and far too young to be looking so afraid. If he were a lesser man, if he weren't Rick Sanchez, he might have stopped, but he  _is._

Morty doesn't act like he wants it, which is such a difference from other partners Rick has had over the years. He can't deny it, it makes him feel powerful, and his brain's already half coming up with a plan that ends in Morty letting him do whatever he wants because, _"Please, R-rick, I'm so t-t-tired, please help me sleep, Rick-"_

He's more possessive with the next kiss then, bolder with his hands and rougher with his teeth. Morty whines, low and so desperately afraid that Rick doesn't even want to hush him, because he should be afraid.

Morty's nothing compared to him and everything compared to the universe.

He shouldn't have let him in.

 

* * *

 

Rick wakes up alone with bite-marks on his neck and scratches down his back, but only foggy memories of the night before. He's not sure what he expects when he walks down the stairs for breakfast, but it's definitely not Morty with a purple bruise marring the skin on the left side of his face. He doesn't think anyone notices his brief moment of shock and he sits down next to Morty.

He's trembling. Rick can see that the bruises don't start and end on his face, instead trailing into splotchy, finger-shaped marks on his neck. His wrists aren't much better and Rick loathes to think of what the bruises look like under his - out of character - hoodie.

He's a little disgusted that Beth doesn't seem to care (if she even notices at all). He had thought, for a split second, that he'd see her face contort into maternal anger, that she'd make Morty tell her what Rick had done to him, that Morty would see that his mom did care about him.

But she's always been good at proving herself his daughter and even though it's easier for him that she barely looks at her son, he doesn't like it.

It seems to make Morty feel worse, barely able to hold his fork as tears well up in his eyes. Summer is gone for the weekend and Rick almost wishes she wasn't just so Beth could see an example of what she should be, instead of the little girl she's acting like. 

He sneaks an obvious side glance at Morty, asking the silent _'Are you okay?'_ but Morty just looks stubbornly at his breakfast. Rick feels his worry and caution evaporate because,  _God,_ he's trying to make things better and Morty is acting like it's entirely his fault, like he wasn't drunk, like Morty didn't let his guard down in the first place. He might feel guilty later when he's blackout drunk, but his moods change quickly and right now he's stuck on irritated.

He squeezes Morty's thigh and his face is impassive when Morty lets out a pained squeak.

Beth turns to him questioningly, and he knows she's already drunk before he smells the wine on her breath as she searches desperately for a sense of belonging and appreciation he isn't sure exists. He smiles, anyway, and stands up from the table abruptly. 

He needs something to do with his hands, now, because of course he notices how the tension that has Morty's body strung like a yoyo dissapates the further he gets away. He's curious, because he's done some awful shit to Morty - maybe singlehandedly ruined his life - but he's never truly seen Morty afraid of him.

His grandson is maybe the only person in any conceivable galaxy that isn't afraid of him (because even Birdperson, Squanchy, some of his oldest friends, see him as someone to be feared) and all he really needs is some K-Lax and Morty.

(And really, thinking of Morty with blown out pupils and a dopey smile has him adjusting his pants.)

He tries to focus on his most recent project but half his focus is devoted to listening for Morty, for the door to creak open and hesitant footsteps to follow.

They don't and Rick drops the wires he's holding in favor of his new gin.

If there's one thing Rick Sanchez doesn't like, it's being ignored. He's the smartest, most dangerous, most influential man and it's fucking strange to be treated like he's  _normal._

Like he's Morty's little boyfriend who'll just accept the silent treatment with a pout and a whine. 

He grabs the neck of the bottle and wishes it were Morty's.

(There's a voice in his head that reasons,  _you must have really hurt him, leave now you don't deserve him,_ but his drink drowns it, leaving the bitter aftertaste of self-loathing behind.)

He hears Beth leave for work - he's lucky that a work emergency called her out on a weekend -  and he tries to decide whether he should wait until he's had a chance to calm down before ~~hurting~~ confronting Morty, or just get it over and done with. 

His decision is quickly made for him because Morty's going out. It's rare in of itself, but Rick is sure it has something to do with the blank spots in his memory and the bruises on Morty's face. He finishes his drink, standing abruptly to head to the kitchen. He knows Morty's fumbling with his keys like he always does when he needs them, he can hear them clanging against each other like Morty's shaking.

He leans against the frame of the door for a moment, just watching Morty. His skin looks clammy and he looks sick, with trembling hands and purple stains under his eyes. It makes Rick want to pull him onto his lap and say,  _"Hey, Morty, baby, c'mere, I'm gonna - you're going to let me make you - help you feel better."_

He doesn't, still feeling bitter and petty even though he has a new goal in mind, a new game to play. He can push those feelings aside because now,  _now,_ is time for some damage control and a win. Both the things he needs.

Morty tenses as he makes his presence known, walking over to the fridge almost arrogantly - on purpose, of course, Morty's always been weak for power - like he owns the place. He makes sure the hidden message is heard loud and clear;  _'I own you'._

Morty still has his keys clenched tightly in his hands, and he pointedly doesn't talk to Rick as he pulls a beer from the fridge. A hint of annoyance clouds Rick's vision before he shakes it away because that's not how he's going to win this fight. His revenge is crystal cut and perfect in how easy it is to execute, and he's going to love every bit of it.

(It's probably not fair that Morty doesn't know he's in a war, but Rick's not going to be the one to tell him.)

"So, Morty," he takes a deep drink, watching Morty all the while, "Where are you - what are you going to do now?"

Morty fidgets slightly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and drawing Rick's attention to it; and by God, Morty has to know what he does to Rick by now, he has to know and that means he's doing it on purpose-

"J-just for a walk," Morty tries to smile but his face gives way to discomfort. Probably due to the bruise, Rick thinks absently, "W-why?"

Rick's moving forward at that like Morty gave him permission, and he nearly loses it when Morty's backed into the counter because he's still so  _small._ If Rick didn't already know how fucked he is, he would have realised in this moment - Morty's just right, just small and young enough to break and rebuild until he's whatever Rick needs. Morty's breathing heavily through his nose and they're both quiet as if afraid to break this bubble they've trapped themselves in.

Rick breaks the quiet first.

"I had - we're going to do something else," he's plastered against Morty and Morty's whispering something under his breath like a prayer. None of the words sound interesting so Rick ignores them to press his fingers into Morty's swollen cheek. It's a mixture of scientific curiosity and plain sadism that has his eyes fixed on Morty, looking for the telltale signs of pain.

He's rewarded with a low hiss and Morty biting his lip again in an attempt to stifle it, his forehead screwed up in discomfort. He kisses Morty, eyes open and glued to his grandson's face just to see what he looks like. He tries to deepen it but then he's being pushed away. It's almost pathetic how easily Morty caves, though, when Rick grabs his hand and strokes it, desperate for his affection. 

(Morty almost reminds him of Beth in that regard, but Morty knows that he's gotten Rick's attention and interest.)

"Rick," Morty's voice is shaky, high in the way it usually only gets during adventures, "I..."

Rick doesn't let him finish his sentence because being told no will only put him in a bad mood so he kisses him again, all selfish desire and rough passion. He's not afraid that Morty will push him away again; they both know that he's the sun in Morty's universe, and without him, Morty will shrivel up and die. Morty doesn't tell him things anymore, too distrustful of him and his tricks, but he's so  _obvious._

He's glad he's not like his family, he thinks as he shoves his hand up Morty's shirt, he's glad he'll never be this weak to anyone.

(The voice is back and it whispers,  _he's the strong one for dealing with you, you're so weak you need to hurt him into loving you_ )

Rick breaks ~~their~~  his kiss and reaches for his drink.

He needs this, he wants this, and he'll be damned if he doesn't get it.

 

* * *

 

 

A few days later, Morty asks him for Jessica's number - Rick knows his face is twisting into a thing of ugly jealousy and Morty hurriedly assures him,  _"No, Rick, she just wants - I just want to have one normal friend, please?"_

Rick could have said no, but instead he nods his head and chucks his phone at Morty, watching the small smile that blooms out of the corner of his eye. 

He can deal with the bitch if he needs to, but he just wants to focus on Morty now.

 

* * *

 

 

"Rick, Rick, I can't - not tonight, please," Morty looks broken, jittery after their adventure and in desperate need of some comfort. He's been shot; Rick can see where the bullet grazed his shoulder, can smell the rancid stench of burning flesh and knows what he's supposed to do.

Rick's angry, though, and he needs to take out is anger and pent-up sexual frustration on something. He likes that all it takes is a loose embrace to make Morty fall in line.

 

He feels much better afterwards but Morty is out cold, new bruises mingling with the old until all Rick can see is a tapestry of _hurt_. He's never been one for art but he'll always like how Morty looks.

He doesn't linger in Morty's room and doesn't look back at the mess he's made when he leaves.

 

* * *

 

"Well you can't - you shouldn't blame me for this,  _Morty,_ " Morty's name is spat with venom designed to make him crumple, but maybe Morty's a little too high because all he does is blink slowly as fury drips onto his face like candlewax.

"What - what do you mean?" Morty's being too loud but they're in a cheap motel room so Rick doesn't care. "I don't - I don't like it, you  _know_ that."

He's had enough of Morty's attitude and he knows the best way to shut him up.

"You - you do, Morty, you're such a little slut," Rick's changed gears, he's running his fingers down the sharp ridge of Morty's spine as he whispers in his ear, "you're the reason this is all happening, you're the one who-"

Rick doesn't chase Morty when the boy runs into the bathroom, puking into the toilet.

He buys them ice-cream on the way home and doesn't touch him for two days after that.

 

He doesn't know why.

 

* * *

 

 

Morty doesn't come home after school and Rick goes on a bender, drinking every bottle of booze he can get his hands on and cursing Morty's name under his breath. He still has Jessica's phone and he calls her, angry and harsh, demanding his Morty from her.

She only picks up the first time, letting every call after that go to voicemail.

Morty comes home early the next morning, and Rick hits him. Hard. Morty holds his cheek for a moment, but he's rushing to Rick's side as Rick starts to vomit. Rick holds him and doesn't let him leave for hours.

He mumbles bits and pieces of his jumbled thoughts. He can't remember what he says but Morty hugs him tight and apologises.

He doesn't stay out late again.

 

* * *

 

 

Morty's getting thinner, he can feel it under his hands. He presses his palms flat against Morty's stomach and barely admires how powerful he looks in comparison. Morty looks more tired as well, so Rick just rolls over and lets Morty lie on his chest. 

Morty murmurs a thank you, sounding too raw and overjoyed and it creates a sharp pain in his chest. He ignores it until it's a dull throb, but he still lets Morty rest. He thinks he'll give him a short reprieve and take him somewhere he'll love tomorrow. Give him a real break.

Rick hopes he remembers this in the morning because Morty looks almost dead and he's not sure how much more he can push the kid.

 

* * *

 

 

Rick Sanchez doesn't know what it's like to need someone. He's never had to before. He doesn't think he ever will.

He has no respect for people controlled by their emotions. It's something he'll never be able to get behind - being at someone else's whims, doing things for them, sacrificing things for them. He's not an average-minded person. He's above it, and he doesn't know exactly what it is that makes him feel different around Morty, but he's never felt like this about someone else before.

He's left his wife, his daughter (twice if you count the Cronenburged world), his life. He's moved on from hurting the people he's closest to like it's nothing, but he can't deny that he likes how he feels when everyone's asleep and no one can judge him for his brief slip into humanity.

He's not needy - he does what he wants, he's  _Rick Sanchez,_ people do things for him without him needing to ask - but he never feels more at home than when Morty leans in for a hug, or takes care of him when he gets too drunk and rough.

He hopes he'll never have to leave Morty.

He knows Morty will never leave him.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morty needs him. Morty wants him.
> 
> He won't leave.
> 
> (Rick won't let him.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY so this is a little bit important: I'm thinking of making an instagram account for writing (in my personal experience, tumblr has been quite problematic). IF i did make one, i would post snippets of future fics/chapters, we would be able to interact more easily, do q&as, etc. i would very much like to have more interactions with you guys!! let me know if this is something you would be interested in!!
> 
> my friend convinced me to at least ask, and i feel like it could be fun if you guys wanted to give it a try!
> 
> much love, and thank you for reading my darlings!

Rick doesn't really know why it's Morty. He doesn't even remember how it started, when it started, but it hit him hard and fast and it  _stuck._

Morty's everything he's not; it's something he loves and hates in him, and it's enough to make him come back every time. He knows Morty better than Morty does - because he knows himself first and the rules are simple in their little games.

If Rick would say yes, Morty would say no. If Rick would fight, Morty would surrender. If Rick would take control, Morty would submit.

Sometimes the rules change and as Rick  ~~ruins~~ ~~~~takes Morty on more adventures, Morty grows tougher. He grows more chaotic, more _lenient,_ more willing to shoot up a bank or take hostages or do whatever Rick wants. Morty's stronger than he was, but he knows that Rick will always come out on top. It's  _perfect,_ and Rick just can't get enough of it.

Sometimes, when he's not drunk but not sober, he'll wonder if he might have done the same to Beth, if he had stuck around a while longer. He dismisses that thought quickly whenever it arises, because Beth is both him and her mother, and she's more annoying than  _Jerry_ at times.

Rick's always been hot for power. His power or others, it didn't matter in the bedroom, but Beth is too human, too bound by her needs. She's unstable in a way Rick both understands and can't comprehend. She doesn't act like she has a backbone - and that normally wouldn't matter, because Morty is the most skittish creature he's ever met - but she does, and Rick hates cowards.

He hates people who back down from their beliefs, or change themselves, or can't decide who they want to be ( _You know,_ the snide voice is back again,  _You know it's because you're just like her, admit it, you know she's-_ ). 

(It shuts up for a while, once he's properly drunk.)

She's just not attractive to him, with the constant drunken haze in her eyes and her mouth that drips poison worse than the shit she drinks ( _Who are you talking about?_ ). There isn't even a long, complicated reason why he doesn't like Summer. She's just someone who he tolerates - even likes - but he doesn't want her.

It's strange, but it isn't hurting anyone ( _You're a liar, say his name, say it-_ ). 

He's thirsty, and even though it isn't alcohol that will help, he needs something that will stop his thoughts from catching up to him. It hasn't been working properly like it used to; the voice doesn't keep quiet when he's too drunk to function, and is just geting louder, and louder, and  _louder_ until he thinks he might go deaf. He's been tinkering with something to fix it, but he hasn't found the right homeless man to  ~~die~~ help him test it yet.

He wants to show he has at least some self-control but his drunk, emotional self betrays him yet again to go wander to Morty's room. He feels like he's in the backseat of his own mind - alongside the bodiless voice which is muttering, low and muted. He wants to turn around and leave because the muttering is getting louder as he gets closer to Morty, who is hugging a pillow to his chest.

His body doesn't listen, but it stops, inches from Morty's bed. He can feel his hand reach for his flask that he knows, logically, he left downstairs with the other evidence of his drug binge. Everything is muted; even the voice seems quieter than before (and, just like it used to come and go with his blood-alcohol levels, he knows Morty is his new drug of choice that will make everything unimportant just melt away).

He's not in control but he knows that he won't - can't - wake Morty. He promises himself, promises Morty, because Rick Sanchez is not a man controlled by his addictions.

Morty looks sick.

His mouth is bruised. He's sweating, even with his window open, and he's got panadol set out on his bedside table - expecting Rick. That hardens Rick's resolve; if Morty doesn't think he can do it, if Morty thinks he'll be woken up again, Rick will prove him wrong (and soak up his smile in the morning).

He's still standing there minutes later, and he belatedly realises that he's been talking to the quiet room. To Morty. He can feel his mouth moving, can hear the words as they fall out, choppy and drunk but he's not in control. 

_"-Best thing - Morty - love, love - mine, Morty, love - strong, mine - brave -"_

He's said the words before and he thinks they might be true. 

He's not going to wake Morty - he didn't need Morty, he didn't - and, before he knows it, his eyelids slip shut and he's offered the bliss of drunken slumber.

 

* * *

 

Morty wakes him up early, and Rick is immediately floored by his uncertain smile, the hesitant happiness in his eyes. He realises, last night did nothing but prolong the inevitable because, no matter what, he will always get the hit he  ~~needs~~ wants. 

It's Sunday, and Beth has made breakfast like she normally does. It's bland and underdone, like she had given up halfway through cooking. Rick isn't too bothered - he's eaten worse, Morty has too - but Morty doesn't seem hungry. Rick feels a small pang of concern (because Morty just hasn't been eating, it's confusing) that is quickly washed away when Beth offers him the bottle of wine she has set in front of her.

He doesn't even look at his daughter as he accepts.

Morty pokes at his food while they drink in amiable silence. 

He stares at Morty for a moment. Beth notices and her fist clenches around the neck of the bottle ( _Remind you of anyone,_ the voice snickers). She has to notice the splotchy bruises around his mouth from Rick kissing him, biting him, but she just looks down at her food and chugs some more wine.

Morty desn't say anything throughout the entire meal, but when Rick finishes and stands, he follows suit. Morty makes a beeline for the couch, grabbing a cushion and hugging it to his chest like Rick had seen him do the night before. It almost makes Rick want to crack open a psychology book, but he has better things to do. Morty's channel surfing, but his movements are slow. Sluggish.

Rick could think about it, but he doesn't.

Rick dithers for a moment in the kitchen, trying to plot out his course of action. It doesn't really matter - Morty doesn't say no ( _He did, I wonder why he stopped_ ) - but Rick, even being chaotic and a man who acts on stupid whims, doesn't totally hate having contingencies in place. 

( _You don't go to such lengths for anything else, naughty Sanchez._ )

He doesn't take long because his fingers start twitching; whether it's being caused by adrenaline, shame or excitement is a mystery he can't be bothered to solve. He fetches his flask from the garage, sparing a moment to right a half-baked gadget. He hears Beth and Morty talking, whispering, but he doesn't need to worry. If anything goes wrong, he's a genius. He can fix it, and they're both weak ( _Didn't you call Morty strong_ ) enough to leave him to do what he wants.

He imagines it's about him - because Beth's not stupid - but he doesn't know why they would talk about _it_   in the first place. What would it change?

He feels an irrational pang of worry, the kind he normally only feels when Morty is involved, and doesn't pay any attention to Beth when he storms back into the common area. Beth's tidying the kitchen, body angled away from him, but he doesn't care as he slides into the seat next to Morty.

The contact isn't  _innapropriate_. His arm is resting on the back of the couch near Morty's neck, his legs are spread slightly so his knee knocks against Morty's. He stares directly at the tv, his mouth twitching slightly as Morty shuffles slightly. He takes a deep drink from his flask ( _See how you've ruined him, can't even sit near him without him expecting the worst_ ).

He hears a glass breaking, and turns his head to spot Beth standing stock-still with wine bottle shards at her feet. He raises his brow, and she shakes her head, smiling a small, small smile. He watches her for a split-second more, before Morty steals his attention away again.

"What are you thinking about, baby?" He knows he shouldn't be doing this near Beth, but the ~~sadist~~  scientist in him wants to see how Morty will react, wants to see whether he can take it. His voice is quiet enough that Beth probably can't hear it, but Morty can.

He doesn't even look at Beth when she leaves, still in her pyjamas with yesterday's makeup smeared on her cheeks, like she's been crying. Rick doesn't know when and he hopes she doesn't make her issue his issue (the voice is quieter than ever next to Morty, but it still points out that he's ruining her son). He doesn't care what her problem is, and it's almost proof that the universe favours him above all others that she's gone.

"Baby?" It doesn't seem like Morty can even hear him.

Whatever he wants, whenever he wants it, opportunities and chances fall into his lap. He's the smartest man to ever exist and he still gets  _given_ what he wants. He could work for it, and he does sometimes, but his life is full of convenience.

(Everything that falls into his lap is riddled with catches and loopholes, he just doesn't know Morty's yet.)

Morty is flushed, face splotchy and red as he stares after his mother. Rick tries to think from Morty's shoes - his mom left him even though she knows something is wrong, she doesn't care enough to ask about his injuries or his night terrors. He's completely and utterly alone with Rick. He doesn't protest when Rick tugs him down and pries the pillow from his stiff fingers.

How lucky, Rick thinks, that Morty was ruined long before he arrived. 

 For him, at least.

"Baby..." 

Morty's shaking and Rick feels like he should know why. 

He makes a decision and he's not entirely sure if he'll regret it, but he stands anyway. Morty stares at the hand he offers him blankly, before taking it with his own, much smaller one.

God, this is going to be so, so hard.

 

* * *

 

They go on an adventure. Their first actual, real adventure in a long time (other 'adventures' have typically just been Rick pulling Morty away to cheap motels on alien planets).

They're stealing something from a random government - it's not Rick's best adventure, but it's a last minute one that's  _okay._

They've already been out for a few hours (Rick's trying to make it stretch, for Morty's benefit or his own) and it's going exactly how he wants it.

Morty's slipped into his adventure skin, eyes and mind on the prize. He doesn't flinch, he doesn't shake, he watches Rick's back and Rick feels a sick sense of pride.

Morty is his creation and, like every other invention or contraption of his, he works perfectly. Serves his purposes, doesn't break.

It's the perfect way to describe Morty and suddenly the adventures and not-touching and waiting make sense. Morty needs touching up every once in a while, needs to be taken care of and it's not weird. It's not UnRick-like to cherish or care for the things he makes.

( _Of course,_ the voice simpers,  _does that make it easier for you?_ )

They don't talk. Not like they usually do. Rick's too focused on breaking into the mainframe and Morty's shooting at anyone who tries to stop him.

It's taking longer than Rick had previously expected - their security isn't anything he's seen before so he's learning as he goes. He's still working fast (if he were anyone else it would have been impossible) but he's annoyed at the setback either way.

He's already planning for afterwards because murder always seems to desensitize Morty in the  ~~worst~~ best way. He'll be calm for at least a few hours after. Docile.

Everything is going perfectly until-

"Rick!"

-Morty gets hit.

Rick hears him yelp, can smell the blood and burning flesh. He knows Morty will still shoot (because they're Rick and Morty, if Rick goes down so will Morty) but he grits his teeth and fights the urge to reach for his own gun.

"Almost done, baby!"

He would never admit it, but he works just a little bit faster when it happens. 

Soon it's done and he's got what he wants downloaded onto a small flashdrive. He shoots a Muzzletope in one of it's three eyes and grabs Morty by his arm - the injured one, he realises when Morty lets out a small whimper.

Then they're jumping through a portal and falling into Morty's bedroom. Morty's grinning even though he has to be feeling the pain of being shot, and Rick's laughing.

He hadn't realised how much he missed adventures; his corner of the universe has probably already forgotten him and that won't do. The Federation hasn't even bothered him in a while.

The universe has a lot more to expect from him.

And Morty. 

Speaking of Morty...

"Done trying to - done ignoring me now, baby?" Rick isn't mad, his words are playful but Morty still looks down, guilty and nervous.

"Oh, geez, Rick, I was just - I don't know. I'm really, really sorry." Morty trips over his apology but it's stupidly sincere and Rick likes it.

He just rolls his eyes and ignores his heart melting. 

He leans in and Morty is obviously expecting a kiss; his eyes flutter shut and his mouth parts ever-so slightly. He's shaking, of course he is - but Morty's are nothing if not adaptable, and his Morty is learning. It fills Rick with satisfaction but he turns it into a hug anyway because he's not going to be predictable to a  _Morty._

That's the reason he switches out last minute but he's planning on taking things further immediately after establishing that he's more chaotic than _that_ (because of course he'll get carried away, he always does with Morty).

But, after just a brief moment of hugging, he pulls away to see Morty looking  _hurt._ He's seen the expression a million times - on Beth, his ex-wife, everyone he's ever let down ( _Make a list, see who's not on it_ ) but he never thought he'd see it on Morty, in this context. 

In this situation it's almost impossible but it's happening and suddenly Rick has a new idea. It'll be a pain to pull off but Rick can handle it. He can do what he wants and right now the only thing running through his mind is Morty looking up to him, coming  _to_ him.

He slaps an ointment down onto Morty's desk and sweeps away, ignoring the sharp breath Morty takes in as he does.

***

Rick's never been good with people - he gets along with people fine, but relationships and long term stuff? Not for him. He doesn't see the signs like he should, doesn't see the line in the sand that seperates the  _not okay_ fromthe  _okay._

It's easier when there are people who can distinguish that for him. Like Unity, or Birdperson.

Morty is different from them, though.

He's always been more submissive, not as smart or aware as the people Rick is used to being around. It had been a bit much, at first, to balance his  ~~needs~~ wants and time.

But this new plan is  _perfect_ because now he doesn't need to put his energy into planning or wanting or taking (though he'll probably do it anyway).

With Morty in control, maybe the voice will stop, maybe whatever  _emotional_ part of him will see it's not a problem. It's not irrational, it's not  _dangerous_ , because Morty wants it too.

(And maybe Morty will stop acting like such a  _victim_ and take some responsibility, because Rick's so close to snapping at his attitude.)

 Rick hates psychology with a firey passion, but he has no doubt that he'd be great at it if he tried.

Morty's taking longer than he thought he would but it's okay and he's doing his best to ignore the voice and it's certainty that Morty won't come.

( _Why would he come? For you?_ )

He's a little more drunk than he wants to be but he's fine.

 It's fine.

 

* * *

 

 

Dinner is quick and boring. Summer won't be getting home until much later and Beth is still out, so it's just Rick and Morty. 

Morty's chewing his lip and glancing at Rick who ignores him. Morty seems more confused than normal, which is probably dangerous for his anxiety, but Rick's having too much fun to ease his worries.

The voice is annoying, but his reward will make it well worth it. 

He's sure.

Morty leaves before him, scraping his microwave dinner into the bin and leaving his plate in the sink. Rick lets him leave and he's sure Morty will take at leas thirty minutes to agonise over everything.

He takes twenty.

Rick's lying down in his room, looking over some blueprints when the door opens slowly. He hasn't heard the front door open, so it's not Beth or Summer (and they probably would have knocked anyway).

His blueprints are thrown aside, probably ripped because of how hastily he scrunched it up (and he might be angry at Morty for that later but now he's just excited) and Morty's standing there, wringing the bottom of his pyjama top between his hands.

Rick so badly wants to pat the bed, say  _"C'mere, baby, I'll - you want me to take care of you? Needy baby, I'll give you what I - what you want-"_ but it's Morty's turn to be in control.

"Rick?" Morty doesn't move from the doorway and it sounds like he's asking for something. Rick almost throws the game away then but he's so close and he can control himself and his  ~~needs~~ wants for just a little while longer. 

"What do you - why are you here, Morty?" Rick's probably a little too cold, too harsh, but it gives Morty the incentive he needs to shuffle inside and close the door.

Morty walks over to him, and Rick can't help the growl he lets out when Morty comes to lie down next to him.

 Morty sighs and hugs him around the middle.

He doesn't answer.

"Morty?" His voice is softer now, but no less demanding. 

"Why are you - did I do something wrong, Rick?" Morty's eyes are wide and he looks so  _innocent,_ staring up at him. The unsettling feeling washes over him again and he feels guilty.

Guilt isn't an emotion he feels often and he finds that he hates it - hates how his insides feel like curdling milk, hates how his tongue feels heavy like sandpaper.

Morty's still waiting for an answer, so he finally says, "Yeah, babe - baby."

Morty sniffles a little at that and Rick just wants to make it better but then Morty says, "But you're going - you're not going to leave, are you?"

Morty's been so beautifully broken and Rick can see the day where this might be something real - where Morty might come to him out of desire, and not the fear of him never coming back. But, Rick will always play the cards he's been dealt and he's mastered his poker face.

Rick cards a hand through his hair and thinks. "Nah, I might stick around for a bit - for a while."

"I'm so, so, so- _orry,_ " Morty cries, and Rick is reminded of the other thing that happens after their adventures, "I promise that I'll - please, I'll do anything,  _please._ "

Rick groans at that, and he lets Morty sit on what he said. He half expects Morty to take it back, but he doesn't. 

"Tell me what you wa- tell me what you need, baby."

Like a dog called to heel (because maybe he's following a command - an unspoken one - just maybe), Morty doesn't hesitate, "I need  _you,_ Rick, I swear, you."

And Rick's getting a bit too carried away, drifting along on a high he doesn't think he'll ever be able to replicate. The voice isn't even there, he can't hear anything but his own selfish thoughts and his desires warring for his attention.

"I don't need you, Morty, I don't - I could leave, I could-" He stops because Morty is hyperventilating and he should be more worried than he is, but a smile licks at his face as he rubs Morty's shoulder.

The voice makes an appearance. 

( _Liar._ )

"Rick, I can't, I can't brea-"

He kisses him. 

It's only short, a few seconds, but it shuts Morty up.

"I know, baby, you just messed up, but you can fix - you're here to make it better, aren't you?"

Morty nods feverishly, and it's in that moment that Rick realises that he could do anything to Morty and he'd come crawling back and begging for more.

He doesn't know whether it's Beth's fault or Jerry's fault, or even his own that Morty is like this, but he's not going to complain.

"I'll do anything you need - anything you want, Rick, I promise-"

Rick knows what he wants, but his mouth struggles to form the words.

"Will you - don't you dare leave." He finally says, and the relief that floods through him at Morty's nod is disquieting to say in the least. 

"I won't - I can't - I  _promise._ "

( _Liar._ )

Rick kisses Morty again and the voice fades away like a bad dream.

Morty _needs_ him. Morty  _wants_ him.

He won't leave.

(Rick won't let him.)

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please please please read my first notes and let me know!! i wont unless i think it will benefit you guys and myself; if you wouldnt want it, theres no real use in me putting it up in the first place, no?
> 
> not my best work, but i tried my hardest to slip some important tidbits about their relationship! Let me know what you caught, because I love hearing back from you guys. it helps motivate me and inspire me in a pretty shocking way tbh <3
> 
> Let me know what you think will happen next/what you want to happen! I'll do my best to make it happen ;)
> 
> im going camping for three days so leave me something to come back to guys, since i wont have much service!
> 
> Edit: i meant to get this out on the tenth, sorry it took so long!! i hope it was worth the wait xo

**Author's Note:**

> okay. i know some people probably wont appreciate my interpretation of rick, but he's truly a complex character. i watched a few episodes, analysed a select few of his actions and explored the why in many different ways. keep in mind, we cant see in his head; if this were to be an episode in the show, itd show rick being a total abusive asshole who doesn't care because, if you cut out the thoughts we can read, thats actually whats happening. his thoughts and behaviour are explained by something and i did my best to bring that vulnerable part of him to life. if theres one constant in the show, its that no one knows whats going through rick's head. thank you for being so patient with me clarifying, i just want to make sure everyone's on the same page <3
> 
> another few things my darlings:
> 
> tell me something you want to see/believe could be interesting in this series. Any tidbit from the show, any prompts, I'm all ears!
> 
> click [HERE](https://xbloodrunsredx.tumblr.com/) for my tumblr!


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